


The Lions of Afghanistan

by standbygo



Series: November 2014 Song Challenge [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dreams, M/M, New Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:13:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2562749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/standbygo/pseuds/standbygo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He sees movement up ahead; slow but steady, a golden shadow against the gray concrete walls and metal bars of the cages. His blood and muscles freeze in terror as he realizes that the shadow is a lion, out of its cage and walking free towards him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lions of Afghanistan

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not redistribute my fanfiction on other archives or sites without my express permission. Thank you.
> 
> This is the first in a series of pieces, built out of a challenge/cooperation between ResidentBunburyist and myself. Each piece begins with a piece of music, then I write a piece and RB draws a picture for it, or RB draws a picture and I write a piece for it. 
> 
> You can follow us on Tumblr:  
> ResidentBunburyist: http://residentbunburyist.tumblr.com/  
> Standbygo: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/blogstandbygo

_Sun's up, uh huh, looks okay_

_The world survives into another day_

_And I'm thinking about eternity_

_Some kind of ecstasy got a hold on me._

_I had another dream about lions at the door_

_They weren't half as frightening as they were before…_

  * _Bruce Cockburn, “Wondering Where the Lions Are”_




 

“God. Sherlock. God.”

Sherlock is panting still, beyond words.

“God. That – God.”

They both stare at the ceiling, recognizing that the paradigm shift of their lives is on a tectonic scale.

“Sherlock? Okay?”

Sherlock does not yet speak, but his breath is evening out. John turns to face him, slides his hand up his neck to his cheek. “You okay?”

Sherlock licks his lips. “How-” he starts, stops, starts again, “How did I not _know_ this? I had no idea.”

John’s heart fills, overflows and breaks a little. He pulls Sherlock towards him, wrapping his arms around his skinny shoulders, tucking Sherlock’s face into his neck. “It’s all right.”

“I didn’t know it would be that – intense.”

“I’m a bit in shock myself.”

Sherlock laughs a little. “What happens now?” he says.

John feels the pull of post-orgasmic haze behind his eyes. “Now we sleep.”

“Hm. I actually think I might.”

John smiles into Sherlock’s hair. “Good. Stay? Please?”

Sherlock hesitates, and sounds surprised. “I will.”

+

John slides sideways into a dream. He recognizes the heat and glare of Afghanistan, but unlike most of his dreams, there is no gunfire, no blood, no pain. He is in his sand-coloured fatigues, unarmed. He is in Kabul, at the gates of the zoo. There is no one in sight; no soldiers, no Afghans. The silence of the city scratches at his ears.

He sees movement up ahead; slow but steady, a golden shadow against the gray concrete walls and metal bars of the cages. His blood and muscles freeze in terror as he realizes that the shadow is a lion, out of its cage and walking free towards him.

“That’s Marjan,” says a familiar voice behind him and to his right. His head twitches towards the sound but he is reluctant to take his eyes off the lion. He hears and feels the speaker step forward to stand beside him, and recognizes Major James Sholto, his face smooth and unmarked.

“Who?”

“Marjan,” James says. “When the Americans first arrived in Afghanistan, they found that most of the animals in the zoo had been dreadfully neglected during the civil war – starved, filthy, abused. Marjan became a bit of a symbol for the country itself.”

“James, fascinating story, really, but-” John cocks a nervous eye at the lion, steadily approaching, “but it’s getting closer and – it can probably see us by now, we should-”

James laughs, a free, open laugh that echoes through the zoo. “No, he can’t see us. He’s blind.”

John’s hands twitch, looking for a gun, a rock, a stick. “Wonderful – a blind lion, hurt, starved, on the loose – James, what do we do?”

“Trust issues,” James says. “Don’t be afraid of what you see. Go beyond what you can see, what you think you know. Think about eternity.”

And he is gone as suddenly as he had appeared.

John shifts restlessly from foot to foot, his hands clenching and unclenching, but he does not move. The lion paces towards him. John can see the empty eye sockets, but the lion walks directly towards him as though led on a string.

Suddenly the lion is directly in front of him, and John can hear the huge lungs of the beast working, puffing hot streams of breath against his hands. The lion snuffles against his hands, his legs. John closes his eyes, preparing for the pain of being ripped apart.

He feels a soft bump against his hip.

He opens his eyes again and sees that Marjan has gently pushed the crown of his head against him. The lion rocks his head, drags it across John’s belly.

Surprise loosens John’s muscles. His hands lift, and sink deep into the lion’s mane.

+

John wakes with a sharp intake of breath. Early morning light slants through the curtains. He glances down, and sees that Sherlock has twisted himself around in his sleep and is now resting his head on John’s belly. John’s hands are tangled in Sherlock’s curls.

“John?” Sherlock says, sharp, startled. He must have felt the tension of waking through the muscles in John’s stomach. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“No,” John says. “Not a nightmare, just a dream. Come up here.”

Sherlock obeys, but John can still sense him hesitating, as though this intimacy is something that will be stopped eventually.

John kisses him, long and slow. He feels Sherlock slowly melt against him. He pulls away, draws Sherlock’s ear towards his mouth and whispers his truth to him.

 

_End_

 

**Author's Note:**

> I first heard about Marjan, the lion of Kabul, back when the US forces first entered Afghanistan, and was haunted by the story for years. Here's an article about Marjan, but it does detail some of the abuse the animals suffered - be warned. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/1785005.stm


End file.
